Nightmare
by Becky99
Summary: Is Marguerite the only explorer to escape the madness which has over-come her compnaions? Not everything is as it seems ...
1. Chapter 1

**NIGHTMARE**

She was in the dark.

It was cold. _It's always so cold in these damn caves. _She had quieted and managed to stop the tears over a half hour ago. An hour before this she worked her way free from the restraints which bound her wrist. With a frightened whimper, her arms crossed over one another and wrapped themselves around her heaving chest as she sat on the dirt and pebble strewn cave floor. Looking down at her feet she whispered, "I'm afraid." Marguerite then murmured and not for the first time, "I want to go home."

But home to what? She had seen what her companions did to the tree house, practically pulverizing everything they managed to scrap together since she and the others were marooned here in this God forsaken world. She should have seen that mindless destruction coming when the men's attitudes began to change. She and Veronica could have ran for the hills the moment that very strange dinner conversation started. But they stayed out of loyalty, love and - to be honest - because they wanted to see what was going to happen next.

Perhaps the infection was working on them in an odd way as well?

Challenger, over supper two evenings ago, after she and Roxton had returned from the lake, announced that he no longer cared to go back to their own world. He wish to remain here, on the plateau, as its supreme lord and master forever.

Veronica had looked at her then, the ladies clearing the dishes, their eyes meeting over the table, puzzled. _He was joking, right? _Then Malone and Roxton nodded, odd grins on their handsome but intent faces.

"You know you'll always have my gun." Roxton said.

Then Malone mentioned something about the first place to start any form of dominion was in their own backyard.

All three of the men then turned and looked directly at Veronica and Marguerite, chuckling.

If it was a joke it was not very funny_. _

Marguerite shifted in the dark of the cave, petrified, thinking she had heard hissing. Perhaps from a giant human-eating snake? No, must have been her imagination. Or maybe it was the wind whistling between the cracks of the large boulder they used to seal her inside. If her companions were going to imprison her they at least could have given her some kind of weapon, just in case a monster were to show up ...

What was she thinking?

Roxton had a purpose in trapping her in here without food or water. Out of the way, she was no threat. Free to roam, she might destroy whatever demented plan they had concocted in those diseased minds of theirs. If she could just persuade him, all of them, and make her friends believe she could be trusted ... If she could just lie convincingly enough to get away ...

Near panic once again, Marguerite put a hand over her mouth and took a deep breath. No, she couldn't lose it. Veronica might still be alive. The wild child just might need her help ... if she ever got out of here.

It started two days ago. Marguerite was down by the main river, the one closest to the tree house, with Roxton. They were washing clothes. Or rather, she was. Roxton just sort of stood around with his rifle, looking about, telling her he was keeping watch. You never knew when a hungry T-Rex was going to show up for an early lunch. Besides, he told her, he loved watching her do domestic chores. It suited her so well. It was at that point Marguerite aimed a drenched, balled up wash cloth at the hunter and made a direct hit to the back of his head, knocking his hat off.

It was all fun and games for awhile, the couple laughing, attempting that one upmanship they often engaged in when the others weren't (and sometimes even when they were) watching. But then, out of the blue, Roxton stood straight and suddenly appeared ill or even afraid. When she asked him if anything was wrong he said he was fine but they had better go home. He was uncomfortable about something he could not disclose.

Marguerite closed her eyes, damning her lack of intuition. He must have been infected with the madness and was fighting feelings of dread, paranoia and even hatred. She could feel sorry for Roxton now. Almost. What horrible thoughts ran initially in that handsome head of his before he was completely overcome?

It didn't take long for Malone then Challenger to also show signs of infection. She and Veronica appeared to be the only two unaffected by whatever it was that Roxton came into contact with down by the river. That led the women to believe it was an abnormality in the water, which affected only males. Where did it come from and how could they find an antidote?

The ladies were going to leave the following day. They were going to the lake to see if anything unusual appeared. Or perhaps the Zanga knew something?

But they never got that far. By morning the men were fully contaminated, becoming angry and violent at the smallest of offenses.

They demanded she and Veronica do as they were told, be subservient, or suffer the consequences! They had trashed the tree house, breaking things, tearing up books and laughing as they did it.

Feeling the gravel beneath her hands, letting it filter through her fingers, Marguerite reflected on the change that appalled her most. She had seen John Roxton angry before and she had heard his voice raise when he felt one of their family in the wrong or simply not listening to good sense. 'Usually it's me.', Marguerite admitted with a bitter laugh. Yet, she had never seen him, the man she cared for more than any other, stricken with evil. It was a mental diseased which told him he should strike out and destroy, or barbarically use those weaker than he. Perhaps it was a deeply hidden part of his hunter mentality? She did not know and did not really care to know - but it made her heartsick.

Roxton looked at her with both loathing and lust and yesterday, before Marguerite could hold her tongue, he had curled his fingers into a fist and hit her.

She now lifted a hand and touched her bruised jaw. It had been horrible. She remembered falling onto the floor of their treehouse, stunned and tasting blood. She had heard Veronica cry out and Malone shouting that Roxton should have did that long ago. When she looked upward. Ned had the untamed beauty in a bear-hug from behind, dragging her backwards while Challenger tied her feet and hands.

They had caught Veronica off guard or she never would have been subdued.

Tears came again as Marguerite recalled Roxton, roughly lifting her off the floor by her long hair, telling her she was nothing more than a harlot. "Secrets! You have so many secrets, my pretty Marguerite! Shall we reveal one of them?" He had spoke in a deep voice full of venomous revulsion ... and hunger. Then, he was pulling at her clothes and cursing. When Marguerite heard the fabric of her lavender blouse begin to rip she could take the abuse no longer.

Why was the man she loved, yes _loved_, doing this to her? She stomped on one of his feet as hard as she could then let her fingernails do the rest. Frightened beyond measure, knowing there was no return if she failed, Marguerite scratched at Roxton's face ... then she ran from the tree house for her life.

"Marguerite, come back!" she heard Lord Roxton shout. "You don't know what you're doing!" Oddly, there was concern in that last sentence that led Marguerite to believe, for the briefest moment, that the old Roxton had come back to her. Yet, when she looked up at the tree house from below, pausing in her flight, he was leaning over the rail, taking aim with his rifle! John Roxton was going to shoot her!

"No, no, no!" Marguerite cried into her hands once again. She was not only horrified by what had become of her friends but also ashamed that she had left poor Veronica alone with those animals. Her pure, untamed spirit had to be shattered by now. The girl was probably dead. "I'm sorry." she whispered through her tears, "So sorry Veronica." Then Marguerite looked upward. She wasn't a praying woman but if God would only see fit to help her help those she loved, she would go to church every Sunday for the rest of her life ... once they returned to civilization.

"Marguerite?"

Startled, she turned in the direction of the voice. It was coming from outside the cave, near the exit where the bolder had been lodged. It was Veronica! She wasn't dead, thank God. Marguerite jumped to her feet, a surge of relief engulfing her. Veronica had escaped!

"Oh, you don't know how glad I am to hear your voice." Marguerite pressed herself against the stone, "Veronica, you've got to get me out of here."

"Soon, my friend, soon." Veronica spoke in an eerie calm.

"Veronica," Marguerite stepped back, afraid all over again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all. Once you've accepted the inevitable the transition isn't so bad, Marguerite. And the lovely thing about the whole adventure is that once you've arrived you become a near equal. But, for now, let the men be your masters ... Let _me _be your master, dear friend. I will domesticate you and only show force against you when it becomes necessary ... and once you give birth to a child of our master race, all will be forgiven."

Marguerite, her bottom lip trembling with fear, backed up again. "Oh no. Not you too Veronica." she nearly begged her blond friend. She was alone. Totally alone. And she would die here because she could never give in. Marguerite would never allow herself to be taken over and she certainly wasn't going to become pregnant with one of those beasts evil spawn!

"You will join us soon, Marguerite." came another voice she knew so well. "Just give it time. I may even forgive you one of these days." Roxton said, his tone calm but so horribly superior. "Or I may kill you. But you _do_ have a fifty-fifty chance, my beauty, and that is far better than what you'll have if you don't agree to be modified."

"Go to hell!"

"Just another hour or two in the dark and you will come to us freely. You will understand what it is to serve your masters unconditionally. Or you will starve ... or go insane."

Unable to hold back, so frightened she could not reply, Marguerite screamed and pounded her fists against the stone wall beside her.

She had been a strong woman once but she was being beaten down. "I want to go home!"

Home to England ... To all she loved.

[]

_To be continued ..._


	2. Chapter 2

Her cries were enough to make his heart break.

"I hope we've done the right thing." Roxton murmured to himself, trying to block her agony from his mind. He leaned against a tree just outside of the cave where Marguerite had been imprisoned, his rifle leaning absently against his right leg. He twirled a long blade of grass between his fingers. "God, please tell me we did the right thing."

"We have." came the unexpected answer. "John please, let Malone take over. You need sleep."

Roxton felt his friend's firm hand on his shoulder from behind, the pressure bringing him back to a reality he wasn't certain he was prepared to revisit. "I'm fine. I can't leave her, George."

"But she'll really need you when this entire business is over, John. She won't let you leave her side."

"Have you heard the name she keep screaming in terror. I'm the one causing her pain. I know it's me. She may never want to look at me again."

"She will. I know she will." Veronica replied from Roxton's opposite side.

It had been a nightmare. One moment they were beside the river, laughing and enjoying themselves. The next moment Marguerite was shrieking, having been bitten or stung by something in the water where she was washing clothes. The venom had an instantaneous effect on the woman, causing her to pitch forward into the water, unconscious. The next thing Roxton knew he was there at her side, picking her up and rushing Marguerite to the tree house, begging Challenger to save her.

Marguerite was feverish and convulsing, crying in her sleep. She was also having nightmarish hallucinations.

Zausi, a jungle friend of Veronica's, knew the cause and brought them an antidote. She had been infected by a small swimming creature that dispensed a quick acting poison into her bloodstream.

They caught it just in time to save her life. However, he told them, the antidote was almost as bad as the poison for it would cause madness for a short period of time. Marguerite had to be constrained and placed somewhere, an area where she could not do harm to herself or anyone around her.

They tried to keep her in the tree house but the chemicals and perhaps her own amplified inner energy had caused the woman's strength to increase ten fold. Once conscious, she had broken free from her bonds and ran through the tree house, destroying anything she could get her hands on. She was terrified and it took all three of the men to hold her down.

She screamed and curse and cried in mad horror. She scratched Roxton's face and he was finally forced to hit her, knocking Marguerite unconscious yet again. Then he held her in deep regret, as the others fell away, and just rocked the woman in his arms for a few moments.

Unfortunately, Zausi told them the serum had to run its course. She would never get better unless they allowed her to go through the madness. She was going to experience forty eight hours of mental torture.

It was Veronica who suggested they place Marguerite into one of the shallow caves for safe keeping. She helped the men pad the walls of a cave they had already explored and knew was safe. They then lay Marguerite gently inside. Veronica had smiled mildly when she witnessed Roxton lean over Marguerite's unaware form and kiss her very gently on the forehead. "Get better." she heard him whisper, "I'm sorry I hit you."

They then rolled a boulder in front of the exit.

_"Roxton!"_

Startled, both Challenger and Roxton turned to the cave when they heard her cry his name.

"Please let me out of here! I'll do anything you want! I'm afraid ... please! I don't want to be alone in the dark. I'll submit!" Then she screamed again in anguish. _"No! I won't!"_

Roxton lifted a hand to his chest and once again closed his eyes. He could picture the dark haired beauty pressing herself against the boulder and pleading with them through one of the fissures. She was so frightened and childlike. He was a strong man, used to hardship and suffering. Yet, hearing this woman's misery was nearly more than he could take. Roxton wanted nothing more than to roll that stone away. He would take her in his arms and make the woman of his dreams better just by kissing her and talking with her. He would rescue Marguerite from this groundless hell she had been cast into.

"Only eight more hours to go." Challenger spoke beside his friend, "She's strong and when this is all over ..."

"What?" Roxton barked, "She'll never forgive us for this."

"Of course she will. Sometimes I think you underestimate Marguerite. She'll know we did and what we had to do." Veronica replied.

Roxton bit his lower lip, preventing a curse. He hoped his friends were right.

[]

_... and then she hid in the jungle, hearing their feet breaking branches, knowing they were near. They had come for her. Roxton was a hunter. There wasn't much in the world he couldn't track. He was coming after her to trap and possibly kill what he felt was a threat._

_"Marguerite!" she heard Malone call. She spotted him, that which had once been a handsome young reporter but now a monster, as she hid behind a thick tree._

_She then backed up slowly ... into the arms of her greatest fear._

_"Did you think it would be that easy?" he whispered ruthlessly, holding a hand over her mouth. "We'll put you in a nice quiet place, love, where you'll do none of us any harm." Roxton then kissed the side of her head and laughed low and cruelly. "We will put you in a dark place, cut off from all humanity, and soon you will pray for death ..." _

"Nooooo!"

Kicking the covers off, Marguerite sat up in her bed and looked wildly about. Her friends were all there beside her, using deceptively calming voices, reaching for her to assure and soothe. She shrank back. Marguerite knew it was all a trick. They had become monstrous beasts. All of them. They wanted her dead or ... or ... _no_. It had been a nightmare. Or no, not a nightmare but ... a sickness.

"Marguerite," Malone, on his knees, lifted a gentle hand and stroked her warm cheek, "You're fine. It's all gone now. Your fever's broke and the venom is out of your system."

"You beat it." Challenger announced, "Oh you'll be weak and nervous for awhile but give it a few days, Marguerite, and you'll be walking about the jungle as if you were never infected in the first place."

"_Me_? Infected?" She looked down at Malone, questioning.

Veronica, who had been sitting on the opposite edge of her bed took one of Marguerite's hands and smiled warmly. "You had us worried. They say that a single sting from a saphtor is enough to fell five grown men and yet here you are now. You made it back into the light Marguerite. Some never do. Congratulations."

Marguerite pulled her hand from Veronica's soft touch and looked at the bandage wrapped around her fingers and thumb. The flesh underneath was numb. "It was me._ I_ was sick. _I_ was infected." she finally surmised, confused but becoming more lucid by the minute. "You put me in a cave to ride it out?"

Veronica nodded, "I wish there had been another way."

With a nod, Marguerite smiled mildly. "I understand."

Challenger paced before Marguerite's bed, his fingers lifting to his beard in thought. "It's the saphtor that confuses me. I don't know what it was doing in that river. They usually go for a colder environment. They stick to the lakes of the higher elevations. Just one of those odd on-going plateau abnormalities that we have to be careful of, I suppose."

Marguerite had only been half listening. Her focus, still slightly blurry, sought out the one person who had yet to make his presence known.

Roxton stood to the back of the room, behind his friends, watching but not approaching. He hadn't slept since Marguerite's affliction and was so relieved when she finally awakened that he nearly wept. A giant weight removed itself from his chest. Yet, Roxton was also afraid. He almost didn't want to face her.

"John," Marguerite lifted a hand to him.

Veronica stood to make room then motioned for Malone and Challenger to follow her from the bedroom, "We'll go make you some tea."

When Roxton kneeled beside her, Marguerite's soft fingers lifted to trace the scratch marks on his face. "I did that, didn't I?"

He nodded, gulping slightly. "You were afraid."

"I thought you ..." she started. _Why him?_ She had been afraid of everyone in her madness but Marguerite remembered being especially frightened of Roxton. Why had her nightmares made him the main aggressor, the person who wanted to do her the most harm?

Then the answer came to her very simply. He was the one person she trust most when all was abnormal and insane in this world. Roxton was her rock. He was the assailant of her hallucination because if she were to really be frightened by anything that happened in her life from now on it would only be because Roxton hated her, or worse, didn't care what happened to her. She would feel truly abandoned if she ever lost him.

Then her brow furrowed, "Did you hit me?" she asked, moving her fingers from his scratches to her sore jaw.

He said nothing. Roxton just closed his eyes in pain and nodded. He waited.

"Wow." she whispered, "You're strong."

And when he opened his eyes again she was smiling. The fear and confusion had left her and she was Marguerite yet again. Never in his life had John Roxton felt the ease of mind he was experiencing right now.

"But Lord Roxton," she added as only Marguerite would, "I _am_ expecting you to lavish me with expensive get well gifts from now until we leave the plateau."

"One day when we get back to England, dearest Marguerite, you will be treated like a queen! Anything you ask for will be yours."

"Only fitting." she added with a wry smile and they chuckled together.

Then slowly, leaning in ever so carefully, not rushing the moment, taking into account Marguerite might still be frail, Roxton placed his lips very gently and lovingly on hers.

Marguerite felt his devotion and care but even more than that ... _she felt safe_. And loved.

She had come home.

[]

THE END

Feb. 10, 2002.

Re Edit: Jan 2012

(Note - This was only the 2nd TLW story I had written. I appreciate you comments)


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